


nights like these

by frimaires



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frimaires/pseuds/frimaires
Summary: “How am I supposed to move on from this, Sawyer?” Kate asked.Sawyer downed his whisky and smiled wryly. “Wrong person to ask, Freckles.”
Relationships: Juliet Burke/James "Sawyer" Ford, Kate Austen/Jack Shephard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	nights like these

It was a night like all others: Sawyer was lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, forcing his mind to focus on the present, though his hands were trembling and his face was drenched in sweat. On his nightstand, empty boxes of sleeping pills were stacked as high as the tower of unread paperbacks right next to it.

Sawyer inhaled sharply and rolled onto his side. He reached for his phone on the floor and touched the screen: it was three in the morning. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered and slipped out of bed.

Reluctantly, Sawyer made his way to the kitchen downstairs. Sprawled open on the table lay a journal accompanied by a black pen. He took a seat and stared intently at the two intimidating objects. He swallowed with great difficulty: his mouth was bone dry. Still, he took the pen and began to write.

_Three in the morning._

_Can’t sleep._

_When I close my eyes, all I see are the faces of the people I’ve left behind._

_Hurley, Jack, Jin, Sun, Sayid… her._

His hands were trembling. He dropped the pen and got up.

It had all been Miles’ idea. As soon as they had returned to the States, Miles had decided to see a therapist. “We’re in shock, Jim. Traumatized. Fucked in the head. I saw myself as a baby in my dead father’s arms, for heaven’s sake. _I can talk to ghosts_ ,” he had said and Sawyer knew that he was completely right. They had all been to hell and back again, yet Sawyer would have rather died than talk to a stranger about any of it. What was he going to say, anyway? _Oh, it’s nothing, I just travelled back in time on a supernatural island and finally built a happy life for myself, then a bomb went off and we were sent back to the present where I watched my girlfriend die a painful death. By the way, all of my best friends are also dead._

But six months later, Sawyer was still tormented by the ghosts of the past. Not a night went by without him seeing the faces or hearing the voices of his friends. As soon as he closed his eyes, he’d see Sun and Jin’s drowned bodies, Jack and Sayid sacrificing themselves, Hurley’s sad but determined eyes, and a body so soft and beautiful drenched in blood. Sawyer slammed his fist against his fridge and cursed.

Sawyer knew he needed help and Miles had happily suggested someone who could offer it: a woman, not much older than himself. During their first therapy session together, she had asked Sawyer to keep a journal and so he did, though each entry was a labour.

Nursing his bruised hand, Sawyer rested his forehead against the fridge. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing and his face and neck were burning hot. Suddenly, a knock at the door startled him.

Sawyer didn’t know who could possibly want to visit him in the middle of the night. He didn’t talk to any of the others much and he knew with certainty that no one from his life before the island knew that he had miraculously returned from the dead.

He made his way towards the door and opened it. Kate was standing in front of him, her hair and clothes were soaking wet, her face pale, her eyes red and swollen. It was raining, yet Sawyer hesitated to let her in.

“What’re you doing here, Kate?” Sawyer asked, keeping a tight grip on the door.

“I needed to see you,” Kate said, her voice barely a whisper. In one swift movement, she stepped closer to him and rested the palms of her cold hands against his chest.

Sawyer realized, then, what she wanted. It was the same thing she’d always wanted from him: comfort. In the years that he had known Kate, he had learned that she craved human intimacy more than anything in order to forget about her worries and her pain.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Sawyer said, gently pushing her away from him.

“Why not?” Kate asked. The sudden hurt in her eyes was almost unbearable to look at.

“You don’t want to make this mistake, Freckles, and neither do I.”

“Why would it be a mistake?”

Sawyer closed his eyes and sighed. “You know why.”

Kate nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She hid her face behind her hands and made no attempt to stop herself from crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gasping for air. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Come inside, Freckles,” Sawyer said softly.

He guided Kate towards his living room before walking over to a small cabinet and taking out two glasses and a half-empty bottle of whisky. “I figured you could use a drink,” he said.

Kate nodded and smiled weakly as she accepted the honey-colored liquid. She took a seat on Sawyer’s couch and he sat down in his reading chair on the other side of the coffee table.

Together they sat in silence for what felt like hours, Kate staring at her glass of whisky without once taking a swig and Sawyer gripping his own tumbler so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Sawyer knew that both of them were suffering, yet did not know how to bring up the subject neither was able to stop thinking about. He knew that they were both struggling with the idea that they needed to build a new life for themselves even though they’d been traumatized by events no one would ever believe, even though they’d had to say goodbye to friends and family, even though they’d lost the one person they loved most of all. And Sawyer thought to himself, _if I can’t talk to Kate about this pain, if I can’t talk about it to the one person who knows what all of this feels like, I can’t talk to anyone about it._

Sawyer inhaled sharply and took a long swig of his whisky. “It hurts, don’t it, Freckles?” he said.

Kate looked up from her drink and after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.

Sawyer nodded in reply. “I think about her all the time,” he said and at the sound of those words, Kate looked away from him. Sawyer continued: “Ain’t nothing that can fill the gaping hole she’s left behind, Kate.”

Kate continued to stare at an unknown object on the other side of the room, but Sawyer saw that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Sawyer swallowed thickly. “She made me good—“

“Stop,” Kate said, closing her eyes. “Please, stop.” She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and, with trembling fingers, finally took a sip of her drink.

“Kate—“

She inhaled sharply. “I can’t— I can’t talk about it,” she said and more tears came falling down into her lap.

“Kate,” Sawyer repeated, his voice stern. And when she finally looked at him again, he sounded much gentler when he said: “I know how it feels, all right? I understand.”

“How am I supposed to move on from this, Sawyer?” Kate asked.

Sawyer downed his whisky and smiled wryly. “Wrong person to ask, Freckles.”

“Why can’t you help me? Why can’t we—“

“No,” Sawyer said. “We ain’t going down that road.”

“Why— why not?”

Sawyer gritted his teeth as a memory flashed before his eyes: Rose and Bernard in the jungle, Sawyer looking at Kate for God knows what reason, and the heart-wrenching sadness in Juliet’s eyes. He took a deep breath.

“I love her, Kate,” Sawyer said. “Can’t make that feeling go away no matter how hard I try.”

“And what we had—” Kate said, her body shaking with restraint as she tries to stop herself from sobbing. “It wasn’t love?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?” Sawyer said and he looked at Kate intently. “What happened between us on that island, was it in any way the same as what you had with Jack?” he asked. Once again, Kate looked away from. She didn’t reply.

“That’s what I thought,” Sawyer said and when a look of concern passed over Kate’s face, he added: “No need to look so guilty, Freckles. I’ve always known. And so have you.”

Kate closed her eyes and took another small sip from her whisky.

“I can’t be with you, Kate,” Sawyer said.

“Why not?” Kate whispered.

Sawyer’s voice broke as he said: “You’re not her.”

Kate bent forward, hiding her face in her hands, elbows digging into her knees. She wept. And Sawyer knew that it was not because he had broken her heart. It was already irreparably so. No, Sawyer knew that Kate was thinking about Jack, thinking about how Sawyer wasn’t him either.

Sawyer didn’t speak for a long time. He gave Kate the time she needed to cry and feel the pain of her loss.

After a while, when the tears had stopped and her breathing had become steadier, Kate looked up and smiled weakly at Sawyer. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Sawyer returned her smile. He lifted himself up from his armchair and made his way towards her. He sat down on the coffee table in front of her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Don’t you worry about it, Freckles,” he said. Pulling away from her, Sawyer looked into her tired eyes and added: “You can crash on the couch tonight.”

Much to Sawyer’s surprise, Kate laughed. “You trust me enough for that?” she asked.

“More than anyone,” he said and meant it.


End file.
